Axxo is the last natural born son in Xylon – hence he is skinny and frowned upon by all other men. His father was the caretaker of the facility until he passed away, which Axxo now reluctantly holds that position until the end of his days… Or so he thinks.
Unbeknownst to Axxo his father was the brother of the mighty leader of Xylon… Kraxxl. Who had his own brother brutally killed for falling in love with a woman and producing a child. (Known as the last romance on planet Earth).
Eyve is the underling of one of WPM’s most notorious’ spies Ylem. Her whole life has been following in Ylem’s footsteps learning the ways of elite reconnaissance, assassination and stealth.
Eyve infiltrates Xylon and attempts to assassinate Kraxxl, however Axxo finds her hiding out in his shed and foils her attempt to shoot Kraxxl. He doesn’t take the opportunity kill Eyve and doesn’t raise an alarm which confuses Eyve. She notices his physique and living conditions and realises he is a ‘Natural Born’… Axxo is speechless and is overwhelmed by her beauty – something he has never experienced in his life. Before he comes to his senses she disappears out the window.
He doesn’t mention the events to anyone and goes about his daily routines though constantly thinks about his encounter.
Eyve returns to her secluded post on the outskirts of Xylon and informs Ylem of her failure. Ylem is disappointed and instructs Eyve to return to Yves. On her journey back to Yves she has a sudden overwhelming urge to return to Xylon and finish the job she had set out to do. On her way back she sees that her outpost has been compromised and raided, fearing for the life of her life long guardian she tracks down the convoy who had captured Ylem.
Meanwhile Axxo goes about his daily routines but starts to become inquisitive about the temporary female inhabitants.
Eyve finally catches up with the captors of Ylem and successfully kills the whole group of men and unchains Ylem. Together they push on towards Xylon. When they get there they stealthfully enter Xylon’s outer walls. In short they get exposed fight their way through the first wave of guards however Eyve is caught and was about to be shot when Ylem then sacrifices herself by jumping in the way of the bullet and killing the guard in return. Eyve lays motionless on the floor in despair and disbelief while 20 laser sights beam onto her limp body. She was then taken into the warehouse for ‘processing’.
That’s were Axxo and her path cross again as she is held captive in her cage.
The year is 2694, the world is a very different place. No longer do we fight and wage war on each other for religious reasons. No longer do we wage war on each other for our colour or creed. Sounds like heaven? Well, not even close!
In 2694 the human race has entered its new phase of warfare and found a new cause to fight for. Far more widespread than anything endured before, far more catastrophic and far, far more end game annihilation of our race.
It’s a battle between our sexes. X vs Y.
Men’s Balance of Power
Leader... Commander Kraxxl
Male Lead... Axxo
Women’s Power Movement
Leader... Yeenah Sturgash
Leaders… Adam and Eve
The women’s movement began late 18th century and has gone through five waves:
And so the story begins…
Chapter 1 – Current State of affairs
By the year of two thousand six hundred and ninety four the XVY war has devoured the lives of over half of the world population. In less than 700 years the human race has managed to slaughter itself of over 4.5billion inhabitants who took over 200,000 years to build and evolve.
Female scientists are using huge warehouse labs of thousands of captured men extracting their sperm and also conducting experiments on them to advance their warfare techniques. Such as a gas that only suffocates men. Likewise the male government are capturing women for the same reasons but the elite population of the men ‘purchase’ the women off the government and use them as sex slaves. Creating a ‘black market’ of underground slave trading.
The capital city of the female population ‘Yves’ is a tactically perfectly positioned city which was once known as San Antonio with the Gulf of Mexico offering a natural protective barrier against naval based attacks and with thousands of kilometres of heavily populated land mass around it to warn off any land base assaults. With the whole female population of over 1.5 billion strong in numbers all circulating around this central city, like an army of ants protecting its queen.
The capital city of the male population called Xylon is a port city what once was known many years ago as Portugal’s second city Porto and is located in the very front line of the male stronghold. Allowing the male populous to brag about its confidence in putting in right in the face of the oncoming and relentless female waves of attack. Which resembles nothing of its former scenery and surroundings. Now the whole city is surrounded by a 40ft stone wall that has constant surveillance.
The ‘condemned sea’ is the only thing lying between these two warring factions of the sexes. Once known as the North Atlantic Ocean. Its once radiant sparkling blue waters now littered with countless numbers of sunken ships, aircraft and human remains. Only the sharks are the winner s in this vast and chilling field of death.
It was a normal night time shift for Axxo, whose sole responsibility to the MBP was to service the air-conditioning units in the main research facilities XVP001 and XVP002. Which house the majority of over thirty thousand female test subjects who were unlucky enough to not have perished in battle.
As Axxo performs his usual routine round of calibrating the various the air-conditioning systems that keep the metallic hanger like warehouses at a constant 23’degrees. This was necessary to allow the scientists to perform their barbaric experiments in a constant cooled environment.
Axxo had finished his nightly round and went about his normal exit, passing through the never ending lines of caged housing where the damned subjects now reside. Living out their last few months of existence in confined coups no bigger than a dog’s kennel and to man’s amusement often referred to as such. The only difference being that these cages were stacked up on top of each other, up to a dozen high. Forcing its naked inhabitants to stand for 23 hours a day, on the wire that separates their cell to the one below. For the inhabitants lucky enough to be on the bottom level that has the comfort of concrete at their feet have the trade-off of having all bodily fluids from the inhabitants above cascading down on them.
Axxo walks along the yellow line that is in the middle of the long aisles towards the secured exit point, with the squeaking of his maintenance trolley the only sound breaking the silence of a very bleak and dire atmosphere. It was hard to imagine tens of thousands of prisoners of the Gender War was held within the warehouse. The silence of the broken spirited prisoners portrayed their very short yet torturous future they were to endure.
As Axxo makes his last turn he can’t help but notice amongst the silence there is a soft and harmonious sound coming from a distant cage in the row he just passed. He stood still and the squeaking wheels of the trolley ceased. In reply, the distant sound immediately stopped. Though his intrigue was far too strong for him to ignore it. He left his trolley in its place and took a few steps backwards and peered down the long isle of countless stacked cages. Paying particular attention to the isle number that is painted on the floor displaying a worn-out 43E. Meaning the forty third aisle on the Eastern side of the warehouse. As he allowed his eyes to adjust to focus on the seemingly endless row of cages he replayed the harmonious tune in his head trying to guess how far it seemed to be away. He stood at the end of isle 43E for over 10 minutes in silence peering down the row of cages and waited for the sound to again fill the air.
The exit doors swung open and two of the night security guards in full body armour and armed with batons in there left hands and what can only be described as long cattle prods with a constant buzzing electric current glowing at the ends. They marched down the footpath directly to where Axxo was standing and asked him if everything was ok. They had seen him stop in his tracks and back pedal to row 43E with one of the hundreds of security surveillance cameras. They appeared to be fairly disgruntled that he had stopped and in no uncertain terms demanded to know why. To which Axxo’s reply was quick and simple… He pointed to the ceiling of row 43E and said “AirCon”. Immediately the guards took that short response and looked at each other and nodded. They walked side by side down the aisle and peered up at the first air-conditioning vent. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and turned and peered back to Axxo for clarification. And he was gone…
Chapter 2 – Birth of the new Man
Axxo decided to exit the warehouse immediately and not wait for the cross questioning from the two brute security guards. He parked his trolley in the usual tin shed in which he spent countless hours fixing up the leaking rusted roof. He could of easily had the roof replaced, in fact he had turned down countless attempts from the warehouse’s grounds manager to replace the whole shed. What lay before Axxo in this little tin shed hidden away in the corner of the outer grounds of the warehouses was a place of solitude and memories. To everyone else it was just a tired old shed which appeared that the patches of rust were in fact holding it together. Still people didn’t mind it; in fact people didn’t even pay much attention to it. Even though it was the very first building they walked past when they were admitted though the one and only security gate within the compound.
That evening Axxo sat at his usual wooden work bench in his tin sanctuary and began to reminisce of past times watching his father sitting in the same wooden stool at the same wooden bench in the same shed cleaning his apparatus readying them for the next day’s work maintaining the air conditioning of the warehouses. Axxo prided himself in following his father’s regimental daily routine. His deep thoughts were disturbed by the nightly sirens that bellowed out of the numerous speakers around the perimeter wall of the compound. This signified the change in shift for the night guards. Axxo then realised it was late and decided to drift off to sleep at his bench stooped over and folded his arms in which he nestled his head into and within minutes was fast asleep. Just behind his stool and workbench lay his bed. Which was a worn mattress and pillow on the floor right under the only small window of the shed in between the antique looking closet and his parked trolley.
That night, like every night before it he dreamt of his father and remembered how well received he was with his peers within the warehouse. “One day” he father said to him. ‘One day, this while shed will be yours and you alone will be responsible for maintaining all of the air-conditioners around the compound.” Axxo knew how important this was to the research scientists and took upon this challenge with great honour. Axxo never dreamt of anyone else, mainly because he had never had anyone else in his life. Like most young men across the MBP the passing of his father meant the end of that generation of his family as Axxo was a product of the facility and was conceived in a lab having one of the enslaved women as his carrier. It was almost unheard of for a man to have more than one child, unless he held a position of very high power and status. Which indeed a mere air-conditioning serviceman did not fall into either category.
As the sunlight of the morn pierced its way through the cracked and dirt stained window of Axxo’s shed the warmth radiating from it onto his back woke him like it did most mornings with a welcoming embrace . He went about his usual morning routine of washing in the bucket of cold water fetched form the day before with what can only be described as a rag from a worn out inner pocket lining. He threw out the water onto the muddy path that led to his doorway and grabbed some bread and an apple that was laid out on a ledge of his shed that the kitchen staff routinely left early that morning.
By the time Axxo had enjoyed his morning’s refreshments it was time for him to start his daily labour. He took possession of his entrusted trolley and walked along the pathway along the perimeter fence line towards the entrance of the facility. He nodded to the two rather bulky looking security guards who were stone cold looking and didn’t even look down to acknowledge his presence. They were two perfect specimens of the breeding program held within the warehouse and were testament to man’s breakthrough in fine-tuning the gestational period of which their host was drained of all of her vitamins and minerals until she perished when the foetus became full term and ready to enter our world. Though he knew all too well even though they never changed their stare towards him and kept looking at the horizon he knew they would know what kind a of knot he made with his shoelaces that morning. With that knowledge of their keen eye and superior natural abilities Axxo always felt uncomfortable when in their presence as he felt they were disgusted in his weaker state of mind and body and was afraid they would one day wish to demonstrate how superior they are.
But as usual he passes them without any such episode and enters the warehouse through the two automatic sliding iron doors that open by pulling away from each other separating the fading MBP logo printed on them. As he walks along the internal hallway to the main area he can feel the cooler air caressing his face which he looks forward to feeling at the start of everyday. That way he knows his labours of love working on the old yet reliable air-conditioning generators and compressors have proved to be successful for another day. As he reaches the end of the corridor he is presented with another secured doorway in which this time no guards stand menacingly to make him feel uncomfortable, only a single camera with a keypad underneath in which Axxo enters his access code ‘2,8,0,7’ Which resembles the month and day of his birth into the world from his host on 28th July. As he successfully enters his code the doors slide open again splitting the half faded MBP logo.
As Axxo pushes his trolley through the doorway he is presented with the vast open hanger type warehouse. In which this is the only entrance and exit and is precisely in the middle of the longer side of this rectangular monstrosity. This serves as a scientific research facility, a jail and more importantly a breeding centre. The facility is split into two halves by the footpath directly in front of Axxo at the entrance. The Eastern side is the side whereby the inhabitants of the stacked cages are doomed to be subjects of barbaric experiments that the scientists perform daily to further man’s warfare prowess. The Western side to Axxo’s left is for the breeding program and its enslaved victims are all artificially impregnated, drugged to half sedation and left to grow man’s future army. Thanks to the scientific advancements made, the gestational period is now only 3 months and man has found a way to control the sex of the foetus, so only males are produced. Not only can man speed up the process and control the sex he has also been able to enhance the development of the foetus to become a much stronger, much more superior being than what Mother Nature had provided. The side-effect of this growth and development enhancement literally destroyed the carrier from the inside out. To which man laughed at and saw it as side bonus to the end result they intended.
Axxo walked straight down the middle pathway to the other side of the warehouse and turned left to Western side. It must have been 6am as the sprinklers on the roof burst open and showered water down on the cages. This served a few purposes, it was the female’s only water to capture to drink during the day and the only way they could wash themselves and wash away any bodily excrement that had not found its way down to the unlucky ground level dwellers cage. By the time the water had finished aggressively falling from the hundreds of sprinklers high upon the roof, the bottom level cages were a half a foot under water. Needless to say the drainage systems in the warehouse were not the most efficient and took a good 15 minutes to subside.
Over the years Axxo has been able to numb out the whaling sounds that fill the air within the warehouse when this morning ritual occurs. The water awakens the drugged and subdued occupants at the same hour every day, though everyday it still meets the ill prepared and unexpected prisoners below. After the drenching has come to an end and has served its purpose the roof starts to emit numerous clicking sounds. In which small rectangular shaped holes no bigger than shoe boxes appear as automatic small latches are released. Upon this action the daily nourishment falls from the holes down upon the prisoners in the form of what can only be described as gruel pours from small valves in again a rapid and violent form. This is then frantically caught and consumed by the below inhabitants. With whatever they can’t catch falling to the person below them. Needless to say the ground level prisoners feed depend greatly on the agility of the people above them. Depending on which aisle and location of the warehouse the women occupy, will greatly change the ingredients of the gruel they devour. The Eastern inhabitants consume gruel pumped full of sedatives to stop them screaming and causing a general nuisance of themselves – to allow the scientists to concentrate freely on their work. Whereas the Western side of the warehouse not only get the sedatives added, but are lucky enough to have genetically modified hormones in to ‘enhance’ the gestation of their soon to be offspring. Not that they know it.
As a prisoner of war is taken to the warehouse their fate is decided by a simple method. – If their reproductive organs still work, then they are housed on the Western side. If not, generally because of their age or because they are the more extreme and devout soldiers of the WPM and have chosen to have all of their reproductive organs removed or severely damaged. So that if they fall into the hands of man, they will not at least assist in man’s productive rate. These self-defected women are easy to identify as they have a scar on the lower part of their abdomen, where their ovaries would be. Which in a sign of defiance to man looks remarkably like the letter ‘Y’. Once the prisoners on the Western side have endured 20 weeks of their caged and drugged up nightmare, their cages are opened and they are ushered down their isles to a large roller door that leads to another adjoining warehouse. In a subdued and slow fashion the sedated prisoners follow the forceful commands made by the guards without any resistance or will to break orders. Their once powerful fighting spirit long gone within hours after their very first dose of gruel 140 days earlier.
As the massive roller doors open upwards the screeching sound can be heard from miles away. Bringing a smile to all the males that are in audible distance, as they know what it meant. The females are greeted with rows upon rows of metallic walls 18 foot high in which silver handles are visible, placed evenly two feet across and two feet high. Which are nine handles high and over 750 handles across. There were 24 rows all alphabetically labelled, which was purposely designed so that the last row stops at row ‘X’. Again to signify the males belief in their own dominance over their female foes. All up approximately 16,200 handles were visible in this silent and sterile environment. The prisoners are all rounded up to a corner of the warehouse where they all stand still drooling and looking into oblivion. When all of a sudden the metallic grated floor gives way and drops violently all prisoners down into a pool of yellow fluid. Where the sudden shock of the cold watery liquid awakens them from their zombie state of mind. The trapdoor flooring above them closes again back to its original form. Then starts lowering itself onto the helpless screaming prisoners below. Until all inhabitants below were forced under the surface of the yellow watery substance. Some with the coherence and frame of mind to hold their breath as they were forced down under the watery surface and bodies of the other prisoners. The fluid contained oxygen that was actually breathable to the unwilling prisoners, not that they knew that. The last few of them who managed to hold their breaths the longest finally let out one last shriek underwater and eventually succumb to the liquid filling their lungs. This fluid eventually put its inhabitants into a never ending sleep. The fluid was comically referred to as the ‘Coma Pool’.
The next day the limp bodies would be picked out of the fluid by a metallic claw controlled by a guard in an overhanging watch tower. The rows of metallic walls displaying endless silver handles automatically started to open up. The handles were handles of drawers, like huge filing cabinets with rollout metallic coffins protruding out. Exactly what you would expect to see in a morgue only on a much, much higher scale. However these inhabitants are far from dead, they are very much alive although they are unable to voluntarily move a muscle. Though quite awake with their eyes open they are placed by the metallic claw in their metallic tombs to see out their final three months of life looking up at a steel plate inches form their nose displaying an engraved ‘X’ –clearly showing man’s extent of his hatred to women, whereby their last 3 months of existence the final image in their life is the very symbol they were raised to hate and despise. As they are placed into their metallic tombs the draws close and the fate of the females are sealed. Minutes later a small mechanical arm attached to the ceiling of the tomb with a camera housed to its end assesses the ‘hosts’ vital signs and injects their uterus with chemically enhanced sperm. The robotic arm constantly surveys the host for the next three months. In which at the end of the gestation the hosts are sucked dry of all their natural nutrients and are almost dead. Then finally the host are put of their misery by the extraction of the foetus by the mechanical arm by slicing open the abdomen and pulling out the much larger and stronger than normal baby boy.
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